Magical Emotions
by Zaxarus
Summary: A story about the blight from the point of view of a non-warden mage accompanying Alistair. The events of DA1-Beginning only. Try of a first-person-writing
1. Chapter 1 Friends and Foes

**Two things before I start to write the story: **

_I'll try to write this story from the view of my main character, the mage Deridius who is NOT a warden. Planned to write in first character it is possible that I switch here and then to third person speech as I'm used to from my other stories, but that would be unwanted here._

_Second I'll change some known characters, so don't be surprised. One change will be that Ser Rory Gilmore (named after a female TV-series character) will be a woman in my story. _

* * *

><p><strong>Friends and Foes<strong>

_Castle of Highever – Rory's Bedchamber, two weeks before the battle of Ostagar_

Absentmindedly Rory stroke my leg laying over her powerful ones. The nights with her always were very exhausting and I loved the moments with the passion cooling down, finding comfort and security in her arms. She was not very bright and surely not very educated but if someone would ask me whom I trusted, trusted even enough to show my bare back, only her name could escape my lips. Assumed I would answer honestly, something what didn't come by very often. A smirk crossed my face and with closed eyes I cuddled tighter into her arms.

"Do you think I should … should say yes?"

I moaned as it dawned to me that the time of sweet nothingness was over again. Opening my green eyes I went up a bit, braced myself with my elbow and looked into her soft brown eyes, scrutinizing her face. Cute? No, no one would call her that. Or soft, slim, graceful. Nothing what men searched in women for company? The difference was even greater with my own body being so gaunt, the rips showing thru the skin and my ass clearly nothing to look at. Lazily I traced the edges of her heavy breasts.

I quenched the irritation inside me. Why did I even bother to respond to her silly questions? Did I become so soft lately? I tried to convince myself that it was only because she could be helpful sometime, being something of a fill-in if Belin ever broke the reins I laid upon him. But somewhere deep inside I knew that I lied to myself, that I really liked this strong, honest and straight woman.

"Say 'yes' to Duncan and his wish that you'll be a grey warden? What good will it be? You would have to leave Highever, wander around and slay darkspawn, could never be again with your family."

"And I would have to leave you." Surprisingly soft she kissed me. I could only glare back. "Stop that. You promised me not to … you know." I widened the space between us and frowned. Rory tried to straighten her face but I could see the sorrow in her eyes. "Yes, I know. Only friends with benefits. Please don't get angry. I can't deny that sometimes I hope for more. I know it can't be, but … I'm only a dumb woman."

With a plain face I looked at her. Dumb. Something similar I had thought about her only minutes before, but now it seemed so false. Pressing a smile I rabbit punched her shoulder and she flinched, pretended that I had really hurt her, even as I felt the pain in my fist for hitting her shoulder which seemed to be cut form oaken wood. "You're not dumb. You're only too honest sometimes and I really like you for it. But I don't know how I deserve this." This belittling me never failed to deepen her feelings for me but this was the first time I really meant it. Perhaps it was the doing of my thoughts about the next days that pressed me to think more about me, more than what was helpful. I even hoped that I could save her when … hastily I ushered the thoughts away.

With a broad smile Rory gripped my arms and pulled me above her strong body as I where some 12-year-old boy. "I could think about one or two things why you deserve my attention. Would you dare to do this magic flickering thing again?" I smiled back, my left hand hastily encased by some bluish light before I pinched the nipple of her heavy breast. "As you command …"

_Castle of Highever – Throne Room, twelve days before the battle of Ostagar_

Bored I looked around. How I hated these moments. No one expected me to speak a word, but I had to attend, had to show how mighty he was, he, Bryce Cousland, Theyrn of Highever. Look here, all of you, and be in awe because Theyrn Bryce has his own pet mage. I made a grimace, my mood not enlightening a bit because of Ser Belin standing beside me, his face stony as ever. He was helpful, yes. And he protected me. But I really didn't like him in the least. Sometimes I wondered if it was his attire or simply him being a Templar pressed into the service of watching me. Perhaps both.

Even someone as Theyrn Bryce couldn't persuade the chantry to allow him his pet mage without a Templar to simultaneously guard and watch him. I owed it to my flawless reputation and my standing as Wynne's diligent student that Irving selected me to be sent to Highever. Bryce wanted a mage, but not anyone but a most competent healer. And I was exactly that, having learned from Wynne the ways of a spirit healer, now being one of the best myself. I owed her much and had no qualms about admitting this.

The other mage teaching me many useful things had been Uncle Uldred. Alright, he was not an uncle exactly, but a distant relative. Being around twenty years my senior Uldred liked being called uncle and who was I to decline an old man his little joys? I hadn't to concentrate very much to feel the emotions in the people around me, this special sense being a reminder of the things I learned from Uldred. He was mighty indeed, but I always thought him too ambitious. Surely I was driven too, driven to be a great mage and loved by all. Silently I snickered at the thought. But Uldred had always been too encompassed with his dreams of glory.

And he was too careless in choosing his pupils. Jowan, dumb Jowan. He had no will, no real grasp of magic and was unbelievable lazy. Nothing of that was lamentable in my opinion, but these failures were contradicted by Jowan's urge to be seen as a great mage. Couldn't he realize that he was not meant to be something special? Before I left the tower I went to Irving and hinted at Jowan's special interests, being all the good but troubled friend of him who had to go away and leave the trouble of sheltering him from himself to his first enchanter.

Irving hadn't been convinced then, as I thought. But now thirty months had passed and still Jowan was not allowed to try his Harrowing, so perhaps I've been wrong about Irving.

The motions at the doors fetched me from my memories. There she was, Ser Rory Gilmore, captain of the guard, a marvelous sight in her silverite armor with the slender sword at her side. I sent her a silent kiss and while she tried hard not to contort her face her cheeks blushed. I smiled shortly because I loved these reactions of her, before I forced a plain face and looked to our guests. And hard work it was to remain so.

Rendon Howe had been very generous these last months since our meeting in Denerim. Using the breaks between the Landsmeet conferences, he made a bargain with me. Information about the Couslands against money, much money to be exactly. But that I worked for him didn't mean that I liked it or liked him. He was a snake, a poisonous one to be sure. I sighed flatly. Poisonous, exactly which I would be too. That was what he expected from me today. As a competent healer at the court of a high noble I knew something about poison and now I would use this knowledge. Looking at Rory I felt relief in the thought that I slipped the antidote in our wine, not only protecting me but her too. The poison in the guards' meal would make it easier for Howe's men this night.

The conversation between Bryce and Rendon burbled away, me not listening to their meaning but thinking about how Rendon could play the family friend this convincing. I was good at pretending too, but I had to admit that I had much to learn before I would reach this height of convincing.

"Too bad that your troops need some more days to be ready. Fergus left yesterday with the scouts and cavalry. I'll join your regiment with the rest of my soldiers. At least we'll have some days in Highever to speak about old days." Bryce seemed genuinely happy and I wondered what he would think if he could read my master's mind.

_Castle of Highever – Theirn family rooms, early night_

Nicolas Cousland, second son of Bryce, was sleeping soundly, as it should be. Content about it I left the room, closed the door and protected it with a glyph of repulsing. Not need in forcing my luck. It would be no good if some stupid follower of Howe accidently entered the room and killed him, after I worked so hard to enforce Howe's will. I had no real idea why he wanted Nicolas to survive this night, but he paid too good to ask.

It was around the time to start the next act. Knowing the castle and its secrets it was my role to prevent any member of the family from escaping. Detecting the secret escape tunnel I knew for certain where my place would be in the next hours. Nodding shortly at Belin I left the family quarters, exerting some mental pressure on the Templar to follow me. For a second he resisted, his eyes losing the usual blandness, but then he followed. I had to get lost of him in the future. From the beginning it had been hard to hold him in check, his Templar abilities supporting his strong will. And in the last months my hold on his mind had been uncomfortable uncertain.

The hallways were silent as we passed, reaching the kitchen at last. I waited outside as I didn't want to clash with Nan and the other kitchen stuff. Now I had to wait.

_Castle of Highever – Kitchen, late night_

A few minutes ago the trouble began. Shouting from the throne room, shortly later followed by the clash of weapons. Heavy steps neared as some of Howe's men passed our hiding spot and went to the family quarters. Shortly a pain of guilt reached my heart. Theyrna Eleanor had always been nice to me, going long ways on making me feel at home in the castle. Now she would die. I crunched my teeth and swept these thoughts away. It was necessary.

"Close the doors. Hank, Josh, go with the Theyrn." I smiled briefly. Rory was alive. A short discussion followed, broken off by her angry statement. "You must be secure, milord. I'll fetch Lady Eleanor. Go, please." Frowning I pondered. Four men had passed me, enough to kill Eleanor but no match for Rory's skills. My thoughts were interrupted by Bryce, passing me clutching his side, family sword in his hand and leaning on one of the soldiers. The other one hurried away to the kitchen to open the escape tunnel.

Enforcing my will anew I pointed Belin to go after the man supporting Bryce while I neared the Theyrn, a dagger ready in my hand …

More steps neared, Howe's men accompanying their master. Shortly his face went to the corpse of Bryce, a smile crossing his lips. Then his eyes went up to mine. I gulped as I saw his intent. I had been only a pawn in his hand. Now it would be my time to die, having outlived my usefulness and being a danger to his plans with my knowledge, my knowledge about the source of the evidence against the Theyrn that had allowed him to convince Loghain.

Without a second thought I ran away, forcing Belin to intercept Howe's men. He would die now, die for me, but that was his duty from the beginning. But what should I do now, where could I hide? Running aimlessly I passed the hallway to the family quarters. Rory. Rory would protect me. Catching my breath I forced my tired legs to run …

_Road south of Castle of Highever, eleven days before the battle of Ostagar_

Tired, I was so tired. Even my magic was not able to compensate the long hours of forced march, being compelled to energize not only me but Rory and Oriana too. Shortly I wondered how Oriana could keep pace with us, my healing magic only curing the worst wounds after I reached the quarters. Perhaps it was simply the fact that she had to. If she felt back Howe's men would reach her and continue what they began. I shuddered a the mental image of these brutes raping her while the slashed body of Lady Eleanor laid beside her, one of these grinning bastards holding her son.

It had been a relief for me to kill them all, picturing the face of Howe in their stead. Rory arrived only moments later, eased to see me alive. And now she was walking in front of me, carrying Oren, carrying him to Ostagar and his father.


	2. Chapter 2 The Joining

**The Joining**

_Ostagar – Duncan's Campfire, four days before the battle of Ostagar_

It had been the day of 'first times'. The first time that I was in the south of Ferelden. The first time that I saw a whole army gathering. My first discussion with Duncan. My first meeting with a king. And my first glimpse at the most beautiful elven maiden that could be out there.

Only halfhearted I followed the discussion around me. Fergus hadn't been in the army camp as I hoped, so I left his wife and son at his tent in the care of his guards. An army camp surely was not the right place for a noble woman, nothing to say about the boy, but I was sure she would be fine. And Fergus would be grateful, I only hoped for him. Having one of the highest nobles in Ferelden owing you a huge favor was not a bad thing. But what now? What should I do next?

Rory had instantly jumped at the opportunity when Duncan asked her to become a grey warden. I felt a bit hurt that she left me so easily for a future with these morons. Alistair was a great example of the kind of men who were attracted to the order. Surely he saw himself as a shiny knight fighting for the good. But I had to admit that he was way better than Ser Jory. How could someone leave his family to become a grey warden? Surely he had no idea what this decision meant, expecting to go back to his family after some glory battles. Stupid ass.

My eyes lingered on her legs. Slender, athletic but not overly muscular, bronzy tanned and without marks they were a sight to behold. More than once she shot me an angry glare that showed me how unwelcome my attention was to her, but I couldn't resist. Shianni was quite the opposite of Rory, both in body as in mind. Never before had I been so aroused and her antipathy made it all the sweeter. This evening I swore to myself that I would have my way with her someday and that I wouldn't use my magic to coax her into it.

Daveth, the last of the recruits, was flirting with her. His success was even lower than mine and I smiled covertly. _You'll regret this, Daveth. Nobody interferes with my elven lady_. "See you later, Rory. I'll visit the other mages, my uncle is with them." She nodded and I left the group, feeling Duncan's pondering look on my back.

_Ostagar – Uldred's Tent, four days before the battle of Ostagar_

"It is good to see you, Deridius. I could have really used you the last weeks. Or the days to come, to be honest." I clasped uncle Uldred's arm and smiled warmly. "I'm always ready to help you, dear Uncle. How has it been in the tower the last two years?"

Uldred sighed deeply. "Strenuous to say the least. Wynne is unnerving as ever and Irving … you know him and he's not getting less troublesome with age." I laughed heartily. "You should have got lost of him for a long time." He nodded. "I've thought the same, trust me. Perhaps it is time …" For a moment my eyes twitched, glaring intensely at him. With a smirk I mentioned: "First Enchanter Uldred that has a very good ring to me." Uldred responded in kind. "Don't go ahead of time. There has to be the right moment. But I have a staunch ally, someone you wouldn't expect to participate with the tower and chantry politics."

Now I was really interested but to my dismay Uldred went silent and wasn't eager to explain more. "It is better if you don't know too much. If all goes well you'll come in later. But if I mix it up, you're better no part of it. But perhaps you may be of service with another thing. You rescued the wife of Fergus Cousland, I heard. With his parents dead it is only a question of time before he'll be the new Theyrn of Highever. To have such a man in your pocket is a worthy thing. But there is another noble who could be an obstacle to the plans of me and my allies. The Arl of Redcliffe is a powerful man with high ambitions."

My mind raced. I knew next to nothing about the Arl, but from what I heard some pieces of the puzzle fell in place. I had a suspicion about Uldred's ally. "So we should divert his ambitions. Or we could … "I stalled the sentence, afraid to put forward the idea of poisoning a noble such mighty.

"A plan has already been set in motion. There is an observer at Redcliffe. And we have someone in his household. You remember Jowan? I knew you would." Uldred smirked at my displeased expression. "Much happened these last weeks. Jowan was to be made tranquil because of some rumors about him using blood magic. He escaped from the Templars. The men of my ally caught him, pressed him into service. He is working at the castle now. This stupid orlesian wench the Arl married wanted some apostate to teach her son how to veil his magical abilities. You know that a mage can't inherit a title and so she wanted to hide his magic. Stupid whore, but it was an unsuspected occasion to infiltrate the household."

I listened intensely to his explanations. "What is his purpose?"

Uldred's eyes got ice cold. "To make sure the Arl doesn't interfere with our plans, at least not for the next weeks." As I nodded he continued. "These two agents should do the entire work fine, but if you happen to go there after the battle it would be reassuring to know that someone with brain and patience is there in case of need."

"You can trust me as ever."

_Ostagar – Duncan's Campfire, two days before the battle of Ostagar_

"I really don't know what Duncan sees in her." Rory frowned deeply. "She has hardly any combat training, her abilities in hiding and picking locks are modest to say it optimistic and she has no magical talent. The whole time in the swamp we had to look out for her. Adding her temper to that she was more of a hindrance than a help."

"And yet he wants to make her a warden as it seems. Perhaps he is infatuated with her." I smiled weakly. Rory scorned. "Infatuated as you are?" I gulped several times, tried to collect my mind. _She deserves the truth_. Where did this thought come from I mused? Nobody deserved anything from me. Erg, Rory's vicinity was not helpful in the least. I looked into her eyes, padded her chin meekly. "I'm sorry, Rory. She is nothing like you and I can't really explain who it become. But you're right. I feel something for here … I hope it is only lust but I can't swear that." Snarling she whirled around and stomped away. I hoped that I didn't lose her, Rory was simply too valuable.

"Deridius?" I looked up angrily as Duncan neared. My sympathy for him was nearly not existing, the simple fact that he took Rory away being his greatest failure. "Rory surely told you that this evening will be the joining ritual of our recruits. With four candidates with roguish and weapon skills I was thinking about our dire need of magical talents. I know from Wynne that you're a very accomplished healer and that you rescued Lord Fergus' family shows me that you value the life of others and have a strong will. Would you accept my invitation into the order of grey wardens?"

While I understood his thoughts and his urge to get same healing spells under his wing, I was hard pressed not to giggle aloud. How stupid could he be to think I really cared about Oriana? Sure, she was intelligent and beautiful, but there were many other women with the same assets. Without her being Fergus' wife and Howe's betrayal I hadn't spent a second of thought on her welfare.

I tried to remain calm and answer with a friendly voice. "Surely this invitation is a great honor and I know that for example Rory values it highly. But my future sees other things before me. So no, I must decline."

Duncan was not amused and tried to press the offer. "It is sad that you don't see the necessity to strengthen the order with magic. You're aware that I could simply conscript you? Nobody would stand against it in these dire days." Anger washed thru my mind. He would pay dearly for this. Staying halfway calm I declined anew. "You could surely try. But I would resist. I know you have the right to do this, but that wouldn't help you. I would rather fight and die before become a warden. Conscripting would gain you nothing but you would lose the abilities of a very accomplished healer." Disgusted Duncan turned away and collected his recruits. I wished Rory luck and watched as they went to the ritual place.

For a moment I thought about warning Rory, explaining the dangers of the ritual. But I hesitated. From helping Uldred in preparing the potions I knew the ingredients and the dangers of dying. If nothing else this risk would have persuaded me not to join the wardens. What if Rory died? He body and mind were strong; I had to hope for the best. And by the way I was pretty sure she would go thru the joining even with the knowledge about the dangers.

_Ostagar – Duncan's Campfire, the day of the battle of Ostagar_

"Alistair, you and Rory have the duty to light the fire on the tower. It will be the signal for Loghain so it is an easy but very important task. Daveth, you'll accompany me. We two will stay near the king. Have an eye for enemy caster, I'll protect his rear. Shianni, you'll escort Wynne, Lady Oriana and her son to Lothering. It is safer there for them."

And for you too, I added silently. Jory had died from the joining drink. One stupid mouth closed, I smirked. To my regret Daveth survived it as did to my relief Rory and Shianni. At least I would have a chance to go for him at the battle. I had made sure to be assigned to the wardens. Endless possibilities even if I had preferred to be with Rory. I was sure at least part of the reason behind sending Shianni away was her temporary worthlessness in battle. Lothering would be my next stop after the battle as it seemed.


	3. Chapter 3 A numbed Mind

**A numbed Mind**

_Ostagar, the evening of the battle of Ostagar_

I had left the camp. Wynne and Uldred would stay there, both being too valuable to endanger them in the thickest of battle. Surely I could be there, too, but I had other things in mind, things that demanded me to be down with the wardens.

Since hours rain had been drenching the battlefield, causing knee-deep mud and a depressing mood. The wardens had been excited to see a healer between their ranks and I responded by enchanting their blades as good as possible. I felt an odd kinship to these men, something which unnerved me. With force I tried to remember Uncle Uldred's lessons about seeing other people only as pawns. I tried to see the warriors around me as simple meat-shields, but I knew how miserable I failed in that.

"They're coming." The warning was unneeded. Slowly lit torches came into sight, a wandering forest of torches. Steps, thousands of armored feet trashing the wounded earth, causing her to shriek in pain. Plants hissing and smoldering as tainted blood dripped on their leaves and roots. There they were. Most of them were humanoids, Genlocks and Hurlocks they were called as I remembered. But between them were other figures, towering between their lesser kindred as would an adult between children. Unarmored and unarmed they were but with massive shoulders and hands large and strong enough to rip a human apart limb by limb.

Horrified I stepped behind an iron-clad warden-knight. He smiled reassuringly and turned around to face the enemy. The wind carried a sweet smell to my nose, burned herbs in the incense burner of priestess, the Revered Mother passing the ranks of warriors singing the chant of light. In that moment I didn't understand a single word, didn't want to understand. How could Andraste admit this all? Surely we all were doomed to die. No battle plan, no hammer-and-anvil tactic could deny the sheer numbers of darkspawn in front of us. Why hadn't the king heeded Loghain's advice? Dumb child he was he had sentenced us all to death.

With a thundering roar the darkspawn attacked, shrieks and yells escorting their rush. As a huge wave they hit the first row, ignoring the loss of hundreds to hails of arrows. For a few seconds the front seemed to hold but then the next wave attacked, hacking and slashing. Within moments it went to an all-out battle, cries of pain and rage numbed my ears and brain. My mind dimmed all feelings, and let me act as if I would be dreaming. I throw a stimulating spell here, healed a deep cut there, and forced a broken bone back into form. Drowning one Lyrium potion after the other I felt magic pulsing thru my body as if the Lyrium would replace my blood.

Death screams all around me I saw some Genlocks overwhelming Daveth, blades thrusting into his breast. I had been here in part to kill him in the heat of the battle. But now I felt no heat, felt nothing. My mind only hazily remembering why I hated Duncan I saw him killing the Ogre Alpha that ripped apart our king only moments before. Drinking another potion I urged my exhausted body to heal the warden-commander, seeing but not really discerning the despair in his eyes. A shield hit my shoulder and head, sending me to the ground and all went black.

_Ostagar, Early morning after the battle of Ostagar_

Something poked me. I opened my weary eyes, feeling battered as none before. A Genlock stood beside me, poking the corpses around me to detect who still lived. A grunt evaded his mouth as he saw me moving. Can a darkspawn smile? I had the feeling that he did. He rose to stick the sharp end of his spear in my breast but a tiny spark of my will returned, lashed out and urged the black blood in his body to boil, to kill him in a very unpleasant way. Flesh, blood and other oozes splattered me. I felt relief about the potions I had stolen from the crate Uldred had crafted to protect the king and his guards from the taint.

I looked around, the lifting of my head already draining away what pity energy I had. Nothing was to be seen from the king. But there laid Duncan and that big Ogre. In pure academic logic I realized the weapons of Duncan in the Ogre's breast. That I removed them, took the girdle with scabbards from Duncan, cleaned the weapons and stored them away … I must have done all that but later I remembered nothing of it. Only the darkness, the mass of black blood covering my body and that most of the darkspawn looted the camp rescued me from my stupidity.

A cry urged me to look up. With mild curiosity I saw some darkspawn carrying away a female soldier, each of them holding an arm or a leg of the woman which tried all to break free. My numbed mind lingered around the question why they would do that. With only male darkspawn fighting as far as I had seen, did they need women of other races to procreate? My feet more out of their own will than from my decision followed them. Dumb-folded I watched as they carried her over the battlefield to some unknown destination. Here and there were other darkspawn looting and killing but for me there were only they, their victim and me.

Something snapped. A terrible cry permeated the area; I didn't realize that it came from me. They stopped, dropped their captive and drew their weapons. I lashed out with magic. One of the darkspawn exploded, knocking the others down. Drawing energy from their wounds I fueled my magic, killing, destroying, wracking havoc around me. The woman cried in terror. With a flick of my finger I gave her unconsciousness, sheltering her mind from the battle. More cries, more terror.

_On the Way to Lothering, four days after the battle of Ostagar_

I dragged the gurney behind me. The last days were only a blur. I remembered that I had fought darkspawn at least two times. Evidently I had sometime cured the most urgent of her wounds and drowned one of the potions into her mouth, too exhausted to think about the worth of it. At least she showed no signs of the taint and I could use her body to draw some energy. Slowly my body recovered even with my mind still shattered. My medical knowledge allowed me to examine my mental status, knowing full well that I would crumble into tears as soon as my mind would really resurface.

Until now I didn't know the name of the woman, not caring who she was, where I was. On and on I dragged the gurney, collapsing from time to time, gathering some power being near comatose. As soon as my eyes had the energy to open I rose and straggled on.

How long had I walked on the slabs of the royal highway? I can't remember. There were steps, shouts. Someone said something about a ten-silver-toll. Fighting erupted, someone shoved me, and my legs gave away. I tried not to fall on the woman on the gurney. She smiled.

_Sometimes somewhere_

Low voices, the words clouded. "Did you see … the wounds … how could he live … was alone … seems untainted … he dragged her so far …"

A cry, loud, terrifying, full of pain and anguish. The voice reminded me of my own. Who could it be? The earth was shaking violently. A face over me, hands holding my shoulders. Rory? RORY! My view tunneled, the world evaded my mind, sweetness of death.


	4. Chapter 4 Memories

**Memories**

_Warden's Camp near Lothering, six days after the Battle of Ostagar_

Mumble all around me. The smell of porridge penetrated the air. Cool and soft hands changed a bandage on my shoulder. Weakly I opened my eyes. Raven-black hair and stunningly green eyes in a beautiful and exotic looking face atop a slender body, her clothing revealing more of it than I could handle at the moment.

"I had expected Andraste's angels to be blond and blue-eyed, but perhaps I'm in the eternal fade where I belong and you're a desire demon just starting to torment me." My coarse voice became steadier by the word and I succeeded in flashing a smile at her. The strange woman frowned for a moment but I was sure to see a glint of humor in her eyes before a broad-shouldered redhead shoved her face in front of me. "Back under the living I see and instantly starting to flirt with the first woman in sight."

Allowing some emotions into my voice I whispered: "Rory, so it wasn't a dream. You're really here? Or are you a rage demon intending to …" Interrupting my joke I slowly lifted a hand and caressed her cheek. "I really missed you, Rory. I feared that I've lost you." Restraining her tears she forced a smile. "Never; can't let you alone. No one knows what stupid things you start doing without me looking after you."

An hour later I sat on a log in front of the tent. Around me dozens of refugees had made their camps, the smell of simple cooking and the voices of children in the air. They gave me some time to build up strength, my hunger returning as I shoved the porridge in my mouth. Rory was there and Alistair. The dark-haired was called Morrigan and seemed to be a mage too. She seemed to like me not a bit, but I had no idea why it was that. To my amazement they added a chantry sister to their group called Leliana, on top that one with an orlesian accent.

And then there was Shianni. Leaving Oriana and Oren in the care of the chantry she had decided to pass the days in the company of the only two wardens still alive. Even with her demeanor towards me much friendlier than before – after a while I come to know it was because I rescued that woman I already had forgotten – I stuck to my plan and intently avoided to look in her direction. I felt her confusion about that and this emotion caused me not a little pleasure. My body ached to look at her lithe form, to touch these sensual curves, but this conquest had to be done with much care.

I felt the tension in Alistair and Rory. Remembering how they had admired that fool Duncan I planned my little speech with caution. "I saw him die. Duncan I mean." Seeing the tears in Alistair's face nearly made me laugh, but that would hurt the overall impression. So I tried to recall the moments of the battle, implemented anger, sorrow and despair in my words, not knowing myself how much of it was felt or played.

Describing vividly the fight of the wardens against the darkspawn I intermingled carefully my own deeds, trying to show me as a humble servant of their battle skill. "… and this one warden, I think his name was Norell, waited impatiently for his broken leg to be mended by my magic before he rushed back into battle." Anger about my failure – not about rescuing them but about my emotions that I cared, stupid pride of a healer it was – mixed with the acted sorrow as I continued. "I was there to heal them, but it was in vain. So many died. For every warden I healed, three others perished from their wounds."

Rory hugged and tried to comfort me. "You've done what was possible. They would have needed two scores of healers in their ranks. And Loghain shouldn't have betrayed them." Angry I shook her hand away, angry not because of the events but because Rory was unable to see that Loghain had no other choice. Surely I said nothing about that, Alistair obviously unable to grasp the simplest things about real life. "It all was to no avail. Before I was knocked out only a handful of wardens were standing. Duncan had been killed by a group of Hurlocks, seconds after he revenged the dead of King Cailan, killing that ogre which ripped him …"

I suppressed some tears and continued with a low voice. "I thought about writing a letter to Queen Anora. I don't know if she loved the King, but perhaps she want to know how he died and that his murderer had been killed." Alistair nodded in agreement. This fellow was a bit too easy to read. But I had the foreboding that Leliana and Morrigan were much more difficult cases than the three wardens.

Some hours later, with no other one near us, Morrigan started a conversation, her very first words confirming my suspicions. "I really have no idea why you try so hard to make a good impression on that dumb-ass with your heart-touching stories about the battle." I smiled at her and shrugged. "Duncan was a fool, even greater than the king because in contrary to that child playing general he should have had the tactical grasp to see how stupid the battle plan was. But with one thing he had been right: this is a blight, not some band of plundering darkspawn but a real blight with an Archdemon behind it. And from my knowledge it is not simply fabled history but real requirement that a grey warden makes the killing stroke."

Her eyes widened for a second. That was interesting. What did she know? "With three wardens alive and none of them … you know what I mean, yes? Without you and me showing the way Alistair would lose his pants. Rory is good at heart and brave and all that, but she never grasped the idea of practical proceeding. And I'm sure none of us wants Shianni to lead us. So I simply can't afford to leave them alone, even with you babysitting them."

It was a huge gamble to speak so openly with her, but it seemed to work. She smirked at me and it seemed we just started our own little conspiracy to save Ferelden. Changing the subject I rummaged thru my backpack and pushed a potion in her hands. "When I awoke you spoke about my luck of not being tainted. It had nothing to do with luck. This potion prevents the taint. Don't gamble on it, no willingly drinking of darkspawn blood or similar stupid actions. But about wounds and being splattered in the fight it should save you. "

"Why are you giving this to me? Why not to Leliana?"

I sniffed. "Leliana has yet to prove her usefulness. Till now I only see an annoying blabbermouth. But you healed me and I don't like to owe someone." She nodded. "I see. What if I need more of it? And do you know how to work them?" Smiling with glee in my eyes I responded: "I'm sure we'll find some kind of mutual agreement for further potions. And the recipe … we'll see."

_On the way to Redcliffe, ten days after the battle of Ostagar_

Uncaring for the beautiful area around me I followed Rory on the street to Redcliffe. Stimulating her body with my magic, followed by another spell targeted on Oriana, had become second nature to me since we left Lothering. At the moment Oren was asleep in her arms, soothed by her stories about fair damsels and brave knights. She could have been a wonderful mother, I thought. Should I tell her about the near impossibility to get children now with the taint in her blood? I decided against the truth. Perhaps I could find a way to solve that problem should the question ever arise. Naturally she was simply a needed pawn to end the blight, but knowing her for so long I allowed me some sympathy for her feelings.

I wondered how much Alistair did know about being a grey warden. Listening to his conversations with Rory and Shianni I feared it was only gossip and not much useful knowledge. He even didn't know how to create the joining draught. Not that my learning would be of any use without the needed components, especially the Archdemon blood. I had stolen a small vial from Uldred, surely given to him by Duncan, but that wouldn't help much. Listening to Uldred's rambling about Grey Wardens could prove really helpful now, even if I had no idea where his knowledge hailed from.

Stumbling against Rory's broad shoulders brought me back into reality. Alistair had stopped the group and drawn his sword, sniffing around. _He feels Darkspawn_, I mused. He had told Rory that it was a warden trick, something every warden learned to do after a while.

And there they were. I registered an alpha Hurlock leading a dozen darkspawn our way, a handful archers hanging back with a Genlock who stank of evil magic. Rory ushered Oren and Oriana aside into some bushes before she followed Alistair and Sten – a Qunari who had been very silent since Alistair freed him from his cage in Lothering – into battle. Morrigan and Leliana, peppering the archers with her arrows, stayed back, Shianni beside them to defend them from any stragglers. Having seen her training with Leliana I didn't expect much help from her. The shabby condition of her armor and weapons didn't improve my estimation of her battle prowess.

Hastily I threw a lifeward spell around Oren and answered Oriana's thankful smile with a nod, before I watched the battle. Surely I better should protect Oriana but this way she clearly would be more grateful. I knew how good Rory was in such a fierce battle and I felt relief as I realized that Sten and Alistair at least did really know how to fight.

A rustle in the bushes let me turn around only to see three more Hurlocks appear. One of them I froze on the spot, but the second surprised Shianni. She lost her stance, tried to parry the strokes of his heavy axe. With a pling her sword broke, leaving her with only a useless weapon grip in her hand. Unable to cast a spell fast enough to save the stupid elf I hurled myself against her attacker, us both tumbling to the ground. Bad idea, stupid idea. He was far stronger and it would only be a matter of seconds before he killed me. With a gasp he suddenly rolled aside, Shianni's rusty dagger in his neck. The third Hurlock went down with my lightning spell shattering his body frozen from Morrigan's spell. Slowly the battle died away and it was time for my healing work.

Shianni watched me in confusion. "You … you saved me." Snarling I avoided her look. "Don't overact, it was nothing." Silently she stood there, grasping for reasons for my behavior. _One point for the conqueror. Second point incoming_. Having finished the healing I took a bundle from my belongings and shoved it unfriendly into Shianni's hands. Aghast she opened it. "Those are Duncan's weapons." Alistair's grasp of the obvious was exciting as ever. I looked down to hide my smile.

"I found them after the battle, pulled them from that ogre's breast. I fear you have to clean them, had no time until now." Shianni pressed the weapons against her breast as if they would be her worthiest belongings ever. Thinking about the alienage they were perhaps. "Thank you, Deridius, really …" I interrupted her babbling, making a show of avoiding her stare. "Learn from Leliana how to use them, that would be thanks enough."

The smirk in Morrigan's face showed me that I better never got on her bad side. Tricking her into something would be a real challenge.


	5. Chapter 5 To help the Weak

**To help the Weak**

_Redcliffe Village, sixteen days after the battle of Ostagar_

I suppressed a yawn. The last days had been very tiring and in the sudden calmness of the chantry my body tried to call in his rights. Fortunately I had some experience in showing the all-patient listener of so-interesting conversations while my mind wandered around. From the look of Rory's eyes she had equally changed to her used stance of attentive disinterest. I smiled shortly at her, relieved that some things never changed.

Redcliffe was very uninteresting. This should be one of the most important villages in Ferelden but aside from the chantry, the smithy and a large inn I had only seen small wood cottages. This was noting in comparison to Highever. And I could only sigh deeply about the non-existence of any palisade or watch-tower to protect the village. As it seemed this Arl Eamon had spent all his money onto his castle.

This brought my wandering mind to the Arl and the problems his brother Teagan yet spoke about with Alistair. After speaking shortly with Oriana and giving his condolence about the death of her parents-in-law he had started to talk about some attacks in the night. As it seemed the castle was closed and no one answered to calls. And in the night there came undead and attacked everyone. Surely the one had nothing to do with the other. I groaned silently. Bann Teagan had only a handful of knights in Redcliffe and no Templars, so he had to do with what Militia he got under the leadership of the mayor. What a mess. I was nearly as displeased about all this as Morrigan was.

The knights had been sent away by the Arlessa to search for the Ashes of Andraste to save her ill husband with it. The reason for Eamon's illness I could imagine, being more surprised that he still lived. _If you need something to be made right, you have to do it yourself_. And his wife … it seemed what I heard about this orlesian tart had been correct. What a stupid woman to send her knights away in such a time. Or she was far more intelligent than that, showing the face of the troubled, deeply religious wife and only bidding her time till Eamon died. She would be Arlessa then and regent until her young son came of age. Surely Bann Teagan wouldn't trouble her, the lad seemingly quite nice and all but surely not very ambitious.

Groaning at the non-ending babbling I decided to take action. "Milord, I have a proposal."

_Redcliffe Inn_

I let my eyes wander from the village entrance, where Rory was directing some men to erect a primitive barricade down to the center of the village where Alistair, Sten and Leliana were training the militia. Hopefully they would be enough and the stories of Teagan about undead hordes exaggerated. Anyhow I had other things to do. Looking around the village – supposedly to search for helpful things and with the oil caskets in the store proving it to not be useless – I had seen no sign of this elf I wanted to meet. The inn would be my last try before entering the castle.

The smell of shabby ale permeated the inn. An overweight and not very trustworthy looking innkeeper, a beautiful red-haired serving wench, some lightly drunk militia … and an elf.

Ordering some vine I placed myself on a bench opposite to the elf who started to glare at me. Showing my most pleasant smile and adding my most wintry look I lost no time in explaining that I wanted to know all about him and what was going on in the castle.

"I don't know you and I don't want to …"

With a wave interrupting his babbling, accentuating my displeasure with my magic locking his body I asked very friendly: "Surely you would like to do this the easy way, yes? I'm on your side, working for the same men. I really don't want to interrupt your work but being stranded in this disgusting place I'm in need of information. So tell me all and afterwards all can go on as before. Agreed?"

And so he told me. About his duty to send information about all interesting events in the village and castle, the coming of Jowan, the 'sudden illness' of Arl Eamon, how the Arlessa send the Knights away. "And then began the attacks. I don't think that they belong to the plan. This was never mentioned and since it started I could send no more messages to my middleman. Why should Jowan cause undead to attack the village? That doesn't make any sense."

I agreed. "We'll see to that later. Now we'll have to defend this village. Yes, you too. Take your bow and go to the red-haired woman on the market place. Help her training the militia. Show yourself and make a good reputation. It could help later. I'll try to enter the castle and speak with Jowan as soon as possible." Uneasy he followed my advice and left the inn.

Smiling at the serving wench I started my next move.

_Redcliffe Chantry _

With quavering steps Lloyd, the fat inn-keeper, obeyed my order and went to Alistair to participate in the weapon training. Even the cheerful badinages of the other militia, more than a little bit surprised that he had left the inn, did nothing to soothe his fear. As I learned from Rory, some men needed to fear their officers more than their enemy to do their duty. Or their healer in this case.

Too bad that Lloyd would not survive the night if I could help him find his way to the maker. But Bella's offer was really too good. With Lloyd dead the inn would go into her hands, the wench having persuaded him with her 'charms' to make her his heir. When the time came to collect the 'natural' part of my reward, I would have to make sure that I didn't get any diseases. And I would secure her health too, if only to make sure that I would get my promised part of the inn's profit for a long time.

Sweet Bella. How could anyone think that this innocent face could hide those dirty plans? I sniggered in glee. It would be interesting to see when she tried to get lost of me, too.

"Oren? Please come to me, I'm in need of your help." The boy had been sitting a bit lost in the chantry, his mother unsure what to do and no one of the villagers eager to speak with this noble woman. Now Oriana watched closely what I had in mind with her son.

"Lad, it is time that you show what type of man you are, right? You see all these kids around. They are frightened. Someone has to make sure that they don't die in fear or do something stupid. Kaitlyn, that girl over there, she misses her brother. He had run away. Surely you know better than me were a boy could hide. Would you look for him? And then perhaps you could collect the children in the chantry and soothe them. Tell them that mighty Ser Rory will defend them. You know Rory, yes? She has won the Highever infantry tournament three times in a row. I've seen you watching the fights last summer. No, we won't tell your mother about that. It is our little secret."

With glowing eyes the boy run away. "Thank you, Master Deridius. I had no idea what to do with him the next hours. It is all so foreign ... What?" Oriana stopped her ramblings as she realized my stern look as I intended. "Milady, I know it is not my place to chide you." Making a theatrical sigh I continued. "But I have to admit that I'm displeasingly surprised by your idle behavior since we entered the village." Aghast she looked at me, obviously having no idea what I was talking about or how she should react.

"I know the last weeks had been very disturbing to you. The deaths of Lady Eleanor and Lord Bryce were terrible. And then there is the open question of Lord Fergus' fate. But we have to put that aside for the moment, we have to pull ourselves together. You're a noble woman, born and educated to lead. And these villagers …" I waved around at the old and young inhabitants of the village seeking shelter in the chantry "… need leadership. With Arlessa Isolde in no position to help and Bann Teagan – if you excuse my impertinence – seemingly neither as resourceful nor inspiring to the villagers as you could be, in the moment it falls to Mother Hannah to give strength and hope to these women."

I smiled weakly as if I had memories of the past. "I know that Lady Eleanor had been very proud of having you as her daughter-in-law, your courage and quick mind being the perfect match for Lord Fergus honor and sense of justice. Please prove now that she had been right and show these women that it is not the sole domain of their husbands and sons to be brave and strong. When the fight erupts this night, when the cries of wounded and dying men permeate the chantry, they will need all the courage you can give them, Milady."

Beaming with energy Oriana gave me a stern nod and went to work. _Two birds with one stone_, I thought. Now she would be of help at least, my words about the village women needing courage and leadership ringing true because they were. And later she would remember how I ushered her out of her dark mood, forget my impertinence and remember my compliments. I was very pleased with myself. I only need to find Fergus …

Out of the corner of the eye I saw Shianni melting away in the shadows. The elf ears-dropping my words was I nice bonus, I smiled.


	6. Chapter 6 Mother and Son

**Mother and Son**

_Redcliffe Castle, eighteen days after the battle of Ostagar_

Never had I expected that I would get so many opportunities to use my 'I'm so interested'-face. Now again I was holding it up high in the air around this bunch of morons. Shianni was nice to look at and stayed mostly silent at least. And Rory held her distance. I saw that she felt unsecure in this round of nobles. But the rest … pompous Teagan, no-we-can't-do-that-Alistair and my-voice-causes-toothaches-Isolde were the most unnerving conversation group since a long time. To my regret Oriana stayed calm so far. My compliment about her quick mind had been founded and certainly she could find a solution for this haggling in short time.

Sighing I remembered how nice the last days had been so far. The battle against the undead went very good. Only a handful of villagers died, Lloyd one of the casualties. In the wrong moment he hadn't evaded an axe chop and literally lost his head. But he died as a man and his name would be put on a plaque at the church. What more could a man wish? The victory celebration with Bella had been heart-warming as expected.

Ser Perth crossed the hall, his arm in a sling. Shortly he stopped and shot me a warm smile. He was thankful and he should. His arm had been nearly cut off in the battle and it seemed that my healing magic would allow him to use it again in some days. Not that I cared about his well-doing or his gratitude, but out of a more scientific curiosity it was nice to see how far my healing skills had developed. Surely I had more than enough opportunities to learn these days.

Isolde … I hadn't liked her in the few meetings we had before, her accent grating on my nerves and her silly comments about magic were as ridiculous as if she'd be a chantry sister. I'm-dumb-and-trusting-her-Teagan had really followed his sister-in-law to the castle alone, as she pressed some tears at the windmill. _Oh maker, please, come with me_. I clenched my jaws to prevent a snigger. I genuinely hoped that he would get at least a tumble between the sheets with her for thanks. Her skin looked nice to touch and with her voice restricted to only moan in pleasure she could perhaps be a welcome deviation for a man. It was a sure sign of the time that a numbskull such as her could be Arlessa and a woman like Morrigan had to live in the swamp.

After entering the castle we found it overrun with undead. Almost all inhabitants had been changed into undead servitors of some dark power. The nature of that power we learned from Jowan. Certainly I should have expected to meet him, but with all the undead running rampant I had really hoped for some time that he was gone for good. But no, Isolde had him stored away in some secure cell and now here he was again. Apart from his blood magic he had always been a pity of a mage, his knowledge scattered at best and his will nearly non-existent. Apart from his basically nice nature he was the epitome of a blood mage. Low talent and high dreams.

Connor was a mage, these news were very interesting. It opened an opportunity to my own political plans. Arl Eamon was besides Loghain the strongest political competitor of Fergus. A mage could never hold a title. Perhaps it was possible … Eamon had been asleep for weeks, hold in stasis by the poison Jowan administered to him. Isolde would be regent as long as Eamon didn't change for the better. If I succeeded in neutralizing her, Teagan would take over, a nobleman without much experience and ambition.

"We should call the mages for help, the circle is not far away and certainly they know a way to undo this." It hadn't been a surprise for me that Alistair again saw only the nice solutions to a problem. Isolde and Teagan had left to look after Connor and so it fell to the wardens to decide the next step. To the wardens and their humble advisors.

_Step one: negate the hilarious solution_

"Normally I would support your advice whole-heartedly, Alistair, but to my regret there is a problem. I've spoken with the Revered Mother about the Templars in Redcliffe. Or to be more exactly we spoke about the non-existence of them. They had been ordered to go to the Circle and support Commander Greagoir. The order was not very explicit but told about some problems and losses of the Templars there. If Greagoir needs the Redcliffe Templars, then the problems have to be very dire. Greagoir is a very accomplished Commander and would never do such things if it would be only a single blood mage going rampant.

So we can't be sure that we would get any help there. It is very possible that he won't allow enough mages to execute this ritual to leave the tower. And I fear what we'll find after some days of absence on our return to Redcliffe."

_Step two: regret_

"This leaves us to two solutions and one hurts me more than the other. And I'm not speaking about the use of blood magic. As I know you grey wardens use such things and I will hold back my detestation about that. With my own uprising it so out of way … but I understand that you have to consider it. But … no matter what you decide, someone will die. The mother or the son will be dead when the sun goes down.

About Lady Isolde I better don't speak as I have a long-standing rejection of her countrymen. But she seems to care much about her son. And the son … on one side he is the culprit for all this, that for sure. But he's only a child, he couldn't really know better and he did it all to save his father."

_Step three: let others declare your decision_

"I'm certainly facilitated that it is not my decision whom of both you should kill. But perhaps there is someone able to help you. Lady Oriana … I'm sorry to ask you and please don't understand my question as something I want to know about you and Oren but … you're a mother with a son near the same age, the only mother between us. My knowledge about … the love of a parent to a child is only theoretical and will ever be so. What do you think? Should we allow Lady Isolde to sacrifice her life to rescue her son?"

Bait, hook and line went all down her throat, I could see with a single look. A mother could never propose to kill the son. Rory would concede, the time being too short since Oriana had been her Lady. Shianni probably had no strong opinion about this all. And Alistair could give in with the excuse that others decided and it was not his own dislike of Isolde which forced his hands. And that he hated her for forcing Eamon to send him away had been clear.

And so it was decided. While Jowan prepared the ritual and Isolde wrote a farewell letter for Eamon – a letter I truly hoped he would never have a chance to read – spoke shortly with Morrigan about the dangers for me entering the fade and battling the demon. Afterwards I had a last thing to do before entering the fade.

"Shianni?" I stood beside the tiny elf, my voice only a whisper, a bit of trouble in my eyes. "Could you do me a favor?"

Puzzled she looked at me. "Certainly. What can I do for you?" How could she reject at this moment?

Making a grimace I hesitated a bit with the words. "It is much to ask I know but … I don't want to ask Rory and I fear Alistair is to stressed with all this, knowing Isolde and Connor and Redcliffe his former home and all that ..." I pulled myself together. "Would you … watch my body as long as I'm gone? And if something … happens … something … you know." I sighed deeply and watched intensely as awareness crept into her mind. "Someone has to make sure that I don't return as … possessed. It is my decision to go, and I don't want to risk some other's life." With wide eyes she nodded, deep emotions washing thru her heart for trusting my life into her hands. Coarsely she answered: "It will not be needed, you will return. But I promise that I'll watch." I nodded thankfully, smirking shortly as I turned to see Morrigan watching us. Hopefully the witch liked my companionship enough to prevent Shianni from doing something stupid.

_Redcliffe Castle, nineteen days after the battle of Ostagar_

I watched the funeral ceremony with reasonable grief. The delight still rolled thru my veins, the memory fresh in my mind how I could again at last lash out with my blood magic without anyone knowing the better. The desire demon had been very interesting. She tried to sway me from my path, haggled over Connor's future. I allowed her to succeed at first. Declining her offer to teach me blood magic – as if that would be needed – she unlocked the knowledge about some mesmerizing spells. That I killed her afterwards cleanly and swiftly was only fair.

Back at the castle and rising in my body the shown relief was partially true at least. Before we went to the funeral I spoke with Connor, narrating about his mother's love and strong will and that he had to be a good pupil and make her proud and all that nonsense. That Oriana and Shianni were near enough to eavesdrop had been simple coincidence, trust me.


	7. Chapter 7 Circle Magic

**Circle Magic**

_Lake Calenhad, twenty days after the battle of Ostagar_

_This witch is a real bitch_, I thought. Despite my uneasiness a smile crossed my lips as I remembered how Morrigan had tricked me into this. Shortly I had been thinking the agreement to be fair but in reality …

Emotionally exhausted I rested my face on my hands, my elbows leaning against the railing of the ship's bow. Somewhere the captain was shouting orders, and some sailors were adjusting the main sail of the ship. I felt the stare of Shianni on my back. Probably she thought that I was remembering the events in Redcliffe or my visit to the fade. It wouldn't further my 'romantic' plans with her with telling her that I had only the face of Morrigan in my mind. Neither was it unpredictable nor difficult to see that the two women didn't get along very well.

After the funeral the wardens had been discussing their plans with Teagan. I had to admit to myself that I had been too distracted to influence the discussion and was caught flat-footed as they decided to go to the Circle Tower. "Good luck, I won't come with you." Their puzzled looks would have been amusing if I hadn't been to … frightened would be too strong a word but perhaps something similar … of the idea to go there, to meet Greagoir again. It could be expected that I wouldn't have the chance to leave the tower again or to get a new Templar warden at least. But I liked my new-found freedom.

And what did they expect? Of course I wanted to stop the blight. But I was no grey warden and I had my own plans. "Everyone has his duties to do, his vows to fulfill. You swore to stop the blight and that is an admirable thing to do. But I swore to serve, consult and protect the Theirn of Highever. With Bryce Cousland murdered thru Howe's men …" the picture of my knife cutting Bryce's throat nearly forced a smile on my lips "… the new Theirn is Fergus Cousland. Perhaps he is dead but I hope that he is somewhere in the Korcari Wilds. I have to go and find him, and bring him back to his family."

I crunched my teeth as I thought how content I felt at that moment. And now … enter the bitch, err the witch. "I have another idea. You don't know the Korcari Wilds as good as I do and you have certainly not much experience in dealing with the Chasind. On the other hand you're a Circle Mage and no apostate as I am. You would be much less trouble and more helpful than I in dealing with the mages and Templars at the tower. So this leads to my alternative: you accompany Alistair to the tower while I search the wilderness for Fergus."

With all wardens delighted by her idea I could do nothing else than responding her smirk with a smile and agree. At least I had made further brownie points with Oriana. I could only hope that Morrigan would have success in her search. Without Fergus Oriana would be far less important and helpful in the future.

This morning I had spoken shortly with Morrigan before we departed. "It is very likely that Greagoir will order some stupid Templar to attend me when we'll leave the tower again. I expect you to help me in dealing with him … permanently." Morrigan bowed slightly with a smile. "It will be me a pleasure. The world is so dangerous nowadays, mishaps happen everywhere. But I have a favor to ask you."

Frowning I responded: "Do you actually think that you are in the position to ask me a favor after tricking me into going to the tower for you?" A pearling laughter escaped her throat and she padded me shortly on the cheek. "Don't be such a spoilsport. I'm sure you'll be able to press some delight from your visit. But returning to my favor: there had been a book a Templar once stole from my mother. Certainly he handed it to the tower. I want it back."

I shook my head but smiled even so. "And you want me to look for it? Alright, I'll do that. But if I'll find the book, you'll teach me the magic of shape changing." Morrigan agreed and so I was on my way to the tower.

_Circle Tower, twenty-three days after the battle of Ostagar_

Exhaustion, nothing else I could feel. My mind numb, my voice only a coarse resemblance of its normal way, I looked around, watched, heard, as Greagoir, Wynne and the Wardens were discussing the future of the Circle. It wasn't particularly interesting for me, my points already being solved to my content. If they struggle on as before or burn the whole tower to the ground, that question I gave a shit about.

Two days before we had arrived at the tower, only to hear the reason of their troubles. Uncle Uldred, good old Uncle Uldred, apparently had been going nuts in the end. He had always been too confident about his abilities and too ambitious in his plans, but this invasion of demons could only have one explanation: he lost his free will to a demon himself, Uldred was an abomination now. I was sure about that and equally sure about the imperative to stop and kill him. Making a pact with demons was one thing, losing control to them something completely different. And this would only lead to more supervision and suppression thru the Templars. Greagoir already called in reinforcements and we had only a few days to solve the matter before he had the Rite of Annulment.

"Yes, to make her tranquil would be the easiest way, but she hadn't used blood magic. Aenala only had been stupid enough to follow Uldred and she was not the only one. I would advise to watch her carefully but let her live at the tower …" With half-closed eyes I followed Wynne's words about Aenala, the young blood mage I spared the day before. Wynne was still mad at me for leaving her behind. "You should stay here, Wynne, and protect the children. The part of healing the wardens I could take, but I'm unable to erect such a force field and protect the children with it. And to be honest: you seem very exhausted to me, not in the state of running around and fight. Petra, what do you think?"

With Petra on my side it had been possible to argue Wynne into staying behind. I really had no wish to drag her around in the tower. That would make it only much more difficult for me to search for Morrigan's book. Then we found Aenala and she begged for compassion. I knew her to be a blood mage, in spite of what Wynne told Greagoir, knew her to be one of Uldred's pupils. But he told me that he didn't trust her, thought her to be weak and to softhearted. Those were surely not virtues I held dear, but it meant that she was not one of Uldred's crazier followers. Perhaps she would be a valuable asset later and so I let her go.

"I'm sorry that Irving didn't live to see his Circle survive all this trouble." Wynne nodded to Greagoir's words. Luckily I was too exhausted to smile. After I searched Irving's study for interesting books and Morrigan's grimoire – the search veiled with the argument of looking for his diaries and perhaps some more information about the reasoning behind the whole trouble – it was unacceptable for me to let him live further. Irving would miss the books and more sooner than later would know where to look for them. Diary, Morrigan's grimoire and a handful of interesting books now were stored in my backpack together with an amulet and a ring I found in Uldred's room. I would have liked to get his staff too, but that was too large and obvious. On the other hand I hoped that I would be able to finish the wand I took with me together with some notes from Uldred's laboratory as I searched for 'useful alchemical ingredients'.

Yes, content I was. After we killed Uldred I was sure that the wardens thought his invitation for me to join his cause had only been whispered because of my status as his relative. No one suspected that I had been one of his pupils. And Irving was dead now, one of the positive side-effects of Wynne not being with us. It had fallen to me to use the Litany of Adralla and no one was pained more than me that it didn't suffice to rescue Irving from Uldred's magic.

The circle was saved – at least the puny rest that remained of it - , Wynne would remain at the circle to build it up anew, and the Templars would rush to our aid against the blight. And I was leaving with the wardens. Greagoir even agreed to let me go without a Templar, the reasons being the sum of Alistair's status as an ex-Templar, the small number of surviving Templars and the good rapport that Cullen gave of my behavior in the battle against the blood mages. I hardly succeeded in changing my snicker into a coughing as I thought about the luck I had as Cullen misinterpreted the death of Irving into me following his advice to kill all remaining mages because of the danger of possession.

I had the book and now it was time to collect my bounty.


	8. Chapter 8 The inner Fire

**The inner Fire**

_Frostback Mountains, thirty-one days after the battle of Ostagar_

"No, no, no," Morrigan sputtered when my x-tenth try to change into a wolf failed miserably. I had to admit that she had been very persistent in trying to teach me her magic. And it was not the act to change form that was proving to be the problem but to change into the desired form and holding it. I always ended in a mix of wolf, badger and something other, shifting thru the details every second until I was human again.

Disappointed I watched Morrigan walking away to study her mother's grimoire, leaving me behind groaning about my inability to assume the form of a wolf, something the witch had mastered so adorable. She had been very grateful as I presented the grimoire and I was sure that she really tried hard to teach me this spell. But somehow I was unable to complete the change, something resisted. Morrigan once supposed that my mind jibbed the aspect of a wolf, and that I had to try another animal. That I had to find my own 'spirit form'. After all these failures I had to admit that she possibly was right. Shit.

I returned to the camp where the others were preparing for the night. Rory had been grinning all the time since our return to Redcliffe when we found Morrigan in company with Fergus. Indeed the damned bitch had been able to find him in a camp of chasind hunters. The name of her mother went a long way into releasing the young Cousland. So in the end her rambling about 'knowing the wilds and the ways of the chasind' had been justified, not that it did anything to better my mood. But at least the lovely, sweet and cute family of Fergus, Oriana and Oren was complete again. Anyone vomiting or is it only me?

Fergus had been very thankful to me for rescuing his family and I remember obscurely that I said something nice about his family, especially his mother making me feeling home at Highever and how proud I had been to pay back my thanks at least a little. Anyhow he had been impressed and promised me a place for the time after the blight … blah-blah. I hope you won't forget it.

"Deridius?" Shianni's sweet voice interrupted my dark thoughts. Without the last weeks of training my 'I-see-Shianni-and-blush-deeply' face my anger doubtless would have been visible to her but from the look of her eyes my masquerade was still intact. "Y… yes, Shianni?" _Soft voice, a bit trembling, encases a slight stutter_, I ordered myself. It worked. Maker, I'll be blasted if I try that shallow trick someday on someone with less emotions and more mind than cute Shianni.

"I would like to speak with you. Let's take a walk." Panic-stricken I looked around as if I was searching for rescue. "Err … do you think that to be a good idea? I mean …" To my delight Shianni linked arms with me and nearly dragged me into the woods. Morrigan was occupied and nowhere to be seen. Good because I surely hadn't been able to suppress a cat's smile.

After she put some distance between us and the others Shianni began to inquire: "Deridius, I have a question. You know … as we battled those darkspawn you saved me. And you forced me to learn how to use those wonderful weapons you looted for me from the battlefield at Ostagar."

_Yeah, sure, only for you_. I hoped that investment would pay out somehow, these weapons being worth a small fortune. But I had to admit that Leliana made a very good job in teaching Shianni how to wield them. Combined with her quick temper it would be a bad idea to anger Shianni now, especially as I would have to use blood magic in a fight with her until I learned that blasted shape shifting.

"But … since we met again in Lothering you have been evading me. You're very brusque speaking with me, if you're speaking with me altogether. I don't understand why you behave this way. See, we have to work together, all of us. I … I can't remember anything I could have done to deserve this. Please explain to me. What have I done wrong?"

_Careful now_. I looked at her, my eyes a bit too wide open and pressing a hard gulp. My voice trembled a little. "No … nothing. Really, Shianni, it is nothing. You're … imagining things. Let us go back to the camp." She gripped my arm not allowing me to evade her questions. _No smile now, a little bit fear in my eyes_. "You're always so brave. You even went into the fade to rescue Connor. Surely this can't be more frightening. Please speak with me."

The picture of Morrigan's smirk helped to get my cheeks blushing. "It is not so easy." I averted her eyes and resisted weakly as Shianni gripped my chin to turn my head. "Take your time." Nodding shortly, my eyes flickering around I began to explain.

"It is nothing you did, Shianni. It is more what you are." As expected a deep frown crossed her face and I hurried to explain further. "No, no, I don't mean that. Please, argh, I'm so stupid at this." I tore my hair and hopefully looked as someone who tried to find his words. Her frown changed to a puzzled expression. "What I meant is that … that you're such a … lovely lady. And you're so beautiful and …" _Fetch the memory of Wynne scolding me for being drunk my first time, turn the cheeks' blush more in the deep purple_.

"I really want to get to know you better. I think you're so brave and kind. I mean you never learned to fight before but you became a grey warden nevertheless. And you helped the people of Redcliffe even though your people were treated so unkind in the alienage. B … but every time I speak with you I have to look at you and … you deserve better than some Shem mage lusting after you. Daydreaming of you is so … embarrassing." _Bitter tone in my voice, the last words getting faster_.

Clasping my hand in front of my face to hide my expression I continued. "Surely you despise me now for my weakness. I understand you but I can't deny these feelings." Breaking free of her grasp I hurried away. Shianni didn't follow. Would she buy my story? I hoped so but I couldn't be sure. Some hours I would have to wait before returning to the camp, best when she would be asleep. How would be her face at breakfast? It would be the best if I used the time to drill my 'I'm so anxious about your reaction' face. I would need it direly.

_Frostback Mountains, thirty-three days after the battle of Ostagar_

We were nearing Haven, the mountain village Brother Genitivi wanted to visit as we were told. Why had we been following him? Something about Andraste's ashes I remembered, something stupid to heal Eamon, as if I wanted him to return to health in the least. I could only hope that we would fail in our search or I would have to take other steps. As a careful man I used the last days to collect some herbs and minerals and prepared … something.

There … Shianni flashed a glance at me again, her face always showing this puzzled look. I sighed not amused. It seemed as if I really failed in my plan of amorous conquest, too bad. I decided to give her time until we returned to Redcliffe before I switched my target. Morrigan had been proposing a bit of physical amusement these last days. With the witch understanding the idea of simple pleasures it would be much less arduous.

Speaking of Morrigan … "Cat, you should try to switch into a cat." I looked up at the witch towering over me with a small book in her hand.

"Cat?" I held my hands apart about a foot's length. "You mean me switching into a small kitten? What good would that do?"

Morrigan stared at me as if I was some dumb child. "Certainly you can imagine more than one opportunity when it would be handy being unobtrusively. But I didn't mean a kitten; I spoke of a large predator. In Antiva lives a kind of wood cat, a predator as large as a grey wolf." She pushed the book into my hands, pages open. I saw a picture of a cat jumping from a tree to attack a very surprised looking human. Long claws ready to shred his skin, jaws full of teeth to bite his neck. I liked the picture very much. Somehow it steered something in my heart.

"We'll try that from now on."


	9. Chapter 9 A sound Pilgrim

**A sound Pilgrim**

_Temple of Andraste, thirty-eight days after the battle of Ostagar_

Playing with one of the vials I had found in the chantry of Haven I thought about this gauntlet we had to run for reaching the urn of Andraste's ashes.

Two days before we had been able to find this village at last; the map had not been of much help in finding our ways in the mountains. The inhabitants were an awful lot of crazy bastards, speaking about some dragon they adored as the newborn Andraste. For a while I had actually been impressed how this family of priests had been able to take hold of the community for some generations. But then it showed that the priest himself had been a believer; he was himself a victim and not a mastermind. I would have done better.

But these notes and vials seemed to be interesting. The dragon cultists had been able to strengthen their abilities with dragon blood. They were stronger, faster and more resilient than normal men. Beyond that some of them had been able to cultivate abilities not unlike blood magic. Certainly there would be some useful information for me to gather from the notes. Until then I would store the vials away. No use in poisoning me with the dragon blood.

Even I had to admit that the temple was nice and impressive to look at. Larger than a cathedral with ice reflecting the sunlight it looked like a vast cavern carved from pure light. Too bad that only these cultists and a number of luckless scavengers had a chance to view it. Leliana spoke about telling the chantry about the temple and how pilgrim could visit the temple, be part of the maker's glory. I fear for a moment my facial features slipped from my control, but this idea had been to amusing. With some luck she would be called blaspheme and burned to honor Andraste. _Don't smile, don't smile_.

And then started the gauntlet. To my relief most of the tests had been individual. Some of the questions I had been asked by the warden at the entrance and that spirit that resembled Bryce so clearly would have stirred some … objections from my companions. I scolded myself for letting this happen, for starting something which could have been the end of my plans without some luck. Perhaps Andraste smiled on me as Leliana believed; perhaps the maker had a real crude sense of humor to allow me to go on with my schemes.

"You should take the pouch, Deridius. You'll have to administer it anyway." Alistair gave me the small leather pouch. It had been very easy to sway him on the path of thinking it to be his own idea. Nodding solemnly I accepted the pouch and hid my further thoughts. Arl Eamon would be very surprised about the effect of the ashes, at least for a short while.

_Frostback Mountains, forty-one days after the battle of Ostagar_

I should end my plans with her, I mused looking down at the small frame of Shianni, her skin very pale and the body bandaged more than the average deceased before the burning. Not that my plans had made any progress the last weeks. Apart from 'pass me the tea' there had been no more than ten words per day and her glares had been full of mild wonder instead of friendly feelings as I had hoped before my confession.

Slowly Shianni opened her eyes and bestowed me her first smile, weak as it was. "Hi, little one. Feeling better now?" The elven maiden nodded once, instantly forced to suppress a cry of pain. "Next time you play chewing-bone for a dragon please don plate armor beforehand."

"I'll try to think about it, Deri. It was quiet an impulse that moment, nothing planned. And thank you for saving my ass … anew." _Deri, sounds nice_. I shook my head. "Nothing to thank. Instead I'm grateful that you pushed Rory out of the way. She's quite healthy now, only a broken arm to look after."

"Good." Shianni watched me intensely. "You like her very much, don't you?" _That's an interesting question, why did she ask it_? Again I denied her question in a way: "Like … if you mean 'like as a friend', you're right. I trust her completely. She is one of my oldest friends and she knows nothing about falseness and dishonor." It was easy to sound sincere if honesty was so helpful. Yes, Rory was unable to lie. No, I wouldn't really see this as a virtue. And lastly no, I wouldn't explain this little point to Shianni.

"But if you ask 'like her as a woman' then the answer would be no; no more if have to admit. Sometimes we tried to be more than friends, but I didn't work. It was always as if I would kiss my sister, do you understand?" She nodded and the relief in her eyes startled me. This was so … bah, maker's humor. In the moment I decided to go on, the elven girl seemed finally to yield.

Sorry, Morrigan, you have to wait a little bit longer.

_Castle Redcliffe, forty-seven days after the battle of Ostagar_

We had failed. All this trouble we had been thru, the venturing thru the mountains, battling cold, cultists and dragons only to reach the castle and see the Arl die. Sorrow gripped my heart, really. Apart from Morrigan and Sten all were weeping profusely, giving in to their grief as did Bann Teagan. At least Isolde was already dead and so I was spared to witness her nerve-grinding shrieking.

After reaching the castle I had prepared the potion of Andraste and administered it to the comatose Arl. For a few hours his condition had enhanced, his skin started to show a healthy color, throwing me into doubts if I miscalculated the quantity of herbs which enhanced the blood circulation or that Kolgrim had been false about dragon blood defiling the ashes. Shortly I thought about the small amount of ashes I had stored away. You can never know when such things come in handy. But in the end the small mixture of non-traceable poisons in the concoction had been enough to end the Arl's life.

The Arl is dead, long live the Arl. Bann Teagan would never be a serious threat to my plans and without the Arl it would be easy to suppress the idea of Alistair presenting as an aspirant to the throne, which left Fergus as the most likely candidate. Sheltering my face with my hands – I was so sorry that I couldn't rescue the Arl – I had to work hard not to change from my shuddering into a fit of wild laughter.

Morrigan had asked for the recipe of the anti-taint-potion in exchange for her silence. I agreed. A deal is a deal and until now she seemed able to follow my lead. The only condition she had expressed: "Alistair had to live thru all of this. I need him alive when we face the Archdemon." That was a bit odd and attracted my interest, but I could live with that.


End file.
